


The First and the Last

by Fenchurch87



Series: The Way of the Warden [19]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Darkspawn, Deep Roads, Depression, F/M, First Meetings, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Ostagar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 10:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16659436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenchurch87/pseuds/Fenchurch87
Summary: Solona Amell's first thoughts on meeting Alistair - and her last thoughts about him. Originally written in response to a writing prompt on /r/dragonage, and for the #Dragon4geDay writing prompt: The Blight.





	The First and the Last

**Ostagar, 9:30 Dragon**

“What is it now? Haven't Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?”

The voice caught Solona's attention and drew her eyes to the two men who stood talking beside the pillars. She recognised the tall, black-haired mage; he was one of the Senior Enchanters at Kinloch Hold. Solona had never had cause to speak with him, but some of her fellow apprentices had described him as impatient and fussy. Levin, that was his name.

The other man was unfamiliar to her. She couldn't see his face clearly from where she stood, but she noticed the sword at his hip and the shield on his back. A soldier.

“I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, Ser Mage. She desires your presence.”

The Revered Mother? This must be Alistair, then. Duncan had said– Solona heaved a small sigh of relief as she began to walk towards the men. She had found him at last!

Levin scowled and made a dismissive gesture, as if trying to shoo Alistair away. “What Her Reverence desires is of no concern to me! I am busy helping the Grey Wardens – by the King's orders, I might add!”

“Should I have asked her to write a note?” Alistair asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!”

“Yes,” Alistair retorted, “I was harassing you by delivering a message.”

“Your glibness does you no credit,” Levin replied, his scowl deepening.

“And here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you... the grumpy one!”

“Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must! Get out of my way, fool!” Levin turned on his heel and strode away, muttering under his breath.

Alistair let out a short laugh as he watched the Senior Enchanter leave, before finally turning to Solona. A surprised gasp escaped her lips as his eyes fell on her and she saw him properly for the first time.

He was not as she had expected. This man was nothing like Duncan, grizzled, scarred, battle worn. Alistair was very young, close to her own age in fact – and handsome, she realised, her cheeks reddening as her gaze wandered over his straight nose and chiselled jawline.

Alistair grinned at her, his deep brown eyes full of warmth and mischief. “You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together.”

A joke? At a time like this? But somehow Solona could feel her own face breaking into a smile. And then, she laughed.

*****

**The Deep Roads, 9:47 Dragon**

Solona wrapped the blankets tightly around herself and stared into the interminable darkness. How long had she been down here? Time was impossible to judge in the Deep Roads. She rose when she woke up, and she slept when she felt tired. And in between, she hunted.

Her time was running out. The song in her mind was growing louder, and she didn't need light to know that her skin was turning grey. She had never considered this before, but it made perfect sense. Cleansing herself of the Taint meant she was no longer immune to it.

Some would say she had achieved much in her thirty-six years. Killing the Archdemon, bringing an end to the Blight, returning from the West with a cure for the Calling and perhaps a way to keep the darkspawn out of Thedas for good. But she had failed when it really mattered.

She remembered the journey through the Fade, barely stopping to sleep or eat, she was so focused on her goal. Finally stumbling into Nightmare's lair, drained and exhausted, and finding... nothing. An empty, lifeless husk where Alistair should have been. The demon had taken everything, feeding on his fear until there was nothing left.

 _You were too late_ , Nightmare had taunted her. _He died thinking you had abandoned him, that the woman he loved valued only her own fame and glory. Look at the legendary Hero of Ferelden now. A sad shell of a woman, destroyed by her own failure._

She had thrown herself at Nightmare, howling with rage and anguish, ready to die if it meant she could take the vilest of all demons with her. They hadn't let her. Justice had leapt in front of her, declaring that this was his fight, his way to make amends. Morrigan and Leliana had dragged her away, while she screamed and the Inquisitor sobbed that she was sorry, she was so sorry.

She had travelled far in the intervening years, offering the cure to any Warden who wanted it, but never staying long in one place. Lingering meant too much time to think. With Sandal's help, she had unlocked the secrets of the mysterious metal disk she had brought back from the West, enough to make a passable copy at least. One of her last acts before coming down here had been to pass on her research to the First Warden. She despised the man, but these discoveries were too important to keep to herself any longer.

The final act of all had been to visit her closest friends one last time. Nobody had tried to dissuade her when she revealed her intentions. It must have been obvious to everyone that this was the end. Tears were shed, and heartfelt words were expressed, but she had found joy in these visits too. Leliana, now the Divine, could finally live openly with Saira, and grow old with her. With the Crows all but destroyed, Rhodri and Zevran were living happily in Antiva. And then there were Marian and Anders, and the little Hawkes, four of them now. The boys had come into their magic already. Little Alistair had the makings of a healer just like his father, Marian had told her, her face glowing with pride.

A deafening roar interrupted her thoughts, and thunderous footsteps echoed along the cavern. An ogre. Solona smiled briefly and pulled herself to her feet, leaning heavily on her staff. The movement disturbed Ivan, who had been sleeping beside her. The old mabari stood up slowly and looked at her with big sad eyes.

“Go back to the surface, boy,” she urged, gesturing down the path, away from the footsteps. Ivan gazed back serenely. “Go!” she repeated, more firmly. He didn't move. She sighed. “I'm sorry, Ivan, but this is something I have to do alone.”

Ivan barked defiantly. “Alright,” she relented, crouching down to briefly wrap her arms around her most loyal friend of all. “You and me to the end then, boy.”

She watched the huge shape approach through the darkness. As it slowly drew nearer, she reached into her pocket and pulled out Alistair's rose. It was a foolish fancy, but she thought it still smelled as sweet as when he had first given it to her, so many years ago. She lightly kissed the petals before carefully replacing it in the folds of her robes.

“See you soon, my love,” she whispered. And then, she charged.

 


End file.
